


make the switch to automatic |I want control|

by UndergroundValentine



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Because I always have gifts for her, Cute end, Fluff, Ily bb, Intersex, Intersex!Loki, Lazy Sex, M/M, Rough Sex, Sass talking, Scratching, She is my queen, batskulls, changing positions, dirty talking, gift for bundtfuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 01:35:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndergroundValentine/pseuds/UndergroundValentine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Yes, brother,” Loki’s voice is light enough to be of grace but sharp enough to cut Thor like a knife, and he melts a little as Loki’s inner thighs come to rest on his hips, his cock buried deep inside of the Trickster, “if you’re going to fuck me, you can fuck me proper.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	make the switch to automatic |I want control|

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a lyrics from VNV Nation's "Control", and thus is not mine. Nor are Loki or Thor. They belong to Marvel.

If not for the soft sigh and shift of fur and linen, Thor would not be awake.  It is not unusual for him to be pulled from sleep by such subtleties, and most days he would roll back over and burrow himself deeply into his comfort and slide back into graceful rest.  But this morning, looking down at the body beside him, and a smile pulling at his lips, Thor knew he would not be returning to dreams.

Gently, Thor presses close to Loki’s body, nuzzling his brother’s hair for a moment before relaxing into the furs again.  The Trickster smells of sandalwood and magic—cool and bright—and Thor lets out a heavy but content sigh.  Time had allowed Loki to be at his side and in his bed, and patience and virtue had kept him there, and Thor has been forever grateful.  Because he remembers waking up most mornings alone and almost cold; now, with Loki, he has never felt safer.

One arm is tucked gently around the dip of Loki’s waist, fingers drawing sweeping circles into the small of the Trickster’s back.  He traces faint patterns he’s memorized a thousand times over from the dark and hot nights that Loki prefers not to speak of, but Thor relishes in as if they were a religion.  There is a faint trickle of sunlight that is pouring through a nearby and mostly-draped window, and it illuminates Loki’s hair with a radiance that turns midnight locks blue.  Thor smiles to himself, continuing to stroke the skin of the man at his side.

It is not often that Thor wakes before Loki.  Though the Golden God is a lighter sleeper—contrary to a common belief that for his brute nature, he must sleep heavier—Loki is the one who can survive with fewer hours wasted in recuperation.  It is logical in a way; Thor sleeps softer and longer, Loki sleeps deeper though less.  Something about magic versus a warrior-like constant no doubt would serve a proper analogy, but Thor is far too concerned with the silken grace of Loki’s flesh under his callused fingertips.

His head is pillowed by his palm and supported by elbow, and Thor watches Loki closely as he touches his lover’s skin.  Loki’s closed eyes are pale like the rest of him, and the reoccurring darkness that often clings to the tops of his cheekbones seems fainter today than in mornings past.  Loki’s thin lips are drawn into a relaxed line, a few wispy bangs dangling in front of his brow with a light sweat that often came when he slept beside Thor.  It is no secret the Thunderer is a smoldering pit of flesh and blood when he sleeps, and with Loki’s Jotun heritage sometimes it is a miracle that the Trickster does not wake blue and bitter for changing.

But those mornings, despite the mood, are the best in Thor’s mind. 

Sighing softly, Thor slides his fingertips up along Loki’s hip, following the line of his side and over his ribs.  Loki’s supple and pale flesh was cool beneath Thor’s fingers; though the Trickster’s Aesir skin was drastically warmer than his true Jotun physique, it was nothing compared to the heat of Thor.  And, though strange it might’ve been, Thor found it comforting that Loki was always just a few marginal degrees cooler.  Like the balance of a breath of wind against a sweat-streaked face.

Dragging his fingers slowly over Loki’s hip, Thor let out a small breath as he gazed upon his brother’s sleeping face.  With Loki there is always an air of calm about him when he sleeps.  In these short and too far between moments where Thor takes the opportunity to watch Loki like this, he can clearly see the young boy Loki used to be; carefree and vigilant in fun and petty tricks, and not so bent and warped around torment. 

Admittedly, Thor takes pride in knowing that he helped Loki through the rougher times, moments of self-degradation and loathing; the moments where Loki would look upon himself in glass or reflective water and just sneer at what he saw.  Though his image never betrayed his Jotun flesh, Thor knew Loki could still see it, and he knew that Loki would stand and hate himself.  And Thor would come up beside or behind him, wrap his arms around Loki at once and kiss whatever part of his seemingly ugly being was closest and most tender, and there he would remain until Loki calmed and called him oaf.

Smiling to himself, Thor trails his fingertips up along Loki’s thigh, back over his hip again and across his stomach.  So soft, void of hair and scar, Loki is a blank and open canvas that Thor loves to pretty up with scratches, bite marks, welts, small bruises and burns just as often as he adorns it with oils, kisses, caresses and his own naked flesh.  Dipping his head down, he kisses Loki’s shoulder gently, before running his fingers along his ribs again. 

There is a specific marking that runs along Loki’s right side and crosses over his torso, beneath his nipple and between his collarbones.  On his left is a matching line, and the two come together to what almost reminds Thor of a crescent, though more linear than normal.  Still, it is a sigil Thor finds comforting, and he strokes it a few times before Loki shifts under his touch, rolling onto his opposite side and facing away from the Thunderer.

Huffing quietly, Thor smirks a little to himself as he stares upon Loki’s naked back and shoulders, admiring the lithe physique and pale flesh for a moment.  He should feel ashamed for unabashedly staring upon Loki’s sleeping form in such a lewd way, but he can’t bring himself to feel remorse, or even care, for doing so.  Because Loki is so inanely beautiful that Thor cannot even fathom spending a moment _not_ staring at him, naked or otherwise.

Biting his lip gently, Thor’s eyes roam the visible length of Loki’s bare back, finding the small but ample cover of sheet over his thigh and ass to be just enough of a tease that a small swell occurs between Thor’s legs.  He leans heavily onto his hand, putting pressure with the butt of his palm into the tuff of golden hair several inches beneath his navel.  But it’s no use.  Even in the early morning, with the light streaming in and Loki fast asleep, Thor is aroused.

He could excuse himself from the bed, let his brother rest and care for himself in the bath.  Or he can continue to lie here, gazing upon the green eyed sleeping beauty and further dooming himself into need.  _Or_ , he can do something more.

Quietly, Thor slides over in the large bed, leaving but an inch between his body and Loki’s, resting one massive and warm hand on his brother’s hip.  Loki does not stir, and Thor gently curls his fingers into Loki’s long, waving hair to brush it away from his neck.  He leans in slowly, kissing the back of Loki’s neck, just at the base where neck meets shoulders and becomes back and Thor moans into Loki’s cool neck. 

There is something spectacular about Loki’s body, Thor decides.  Well, he decided upon this a long time ago, but it’s a revelation that returns to him often, and he kisses Loki’s neck again, nuzzling the hairline behind his left ear.  The hand on Loki’s hip shifts and cups his thigh between his legs, lifting his limb slowly.  Pressing close, Thor’s hips become flush with the supple curve of Loki’s thighs and ass, and he sighs quietly.

He doesn’t always do this; going right in for a soft fuck isn’t quite his style, as he thoroughly enjoys bringing Loki to a mewling and writhing mess with hooded eyes and disheveled hair.  But there’s something… passionately erotic about taking Loki while he sleeps, fucking him into a rugged consciousness.  It sends a tremor through Thor’s cock, and he bounces briefly into life.  Moaning again, Thor wraps his arm around Loki’s left leg, shifting it back so that his brother’s hip does not get locked or jarred up, and he slides his cock between Loki’s thighs, the head dragging between the outer folds and against Loki’s clit.

Beside him, Loki’s body twitches faintly, but the Trickster remains blissfully asleep.  Thor smirks softly, burying the smugness into Loki’s shoulder as he rubs his cockhead against Loki’s cool, though admittedly moist, sex.  He groans behind his teeth, careful to keep his sounds and breathing to a dull roar.  No point in startling Loki now; the Trickster, Thor knows, will be in a far better mood to come to consciousness on his own—though undeniably guided—terms. 

Gently, Thor rubs himself along the length of Loki’s plump folds, sighing softly into dark hair against the back of Loki’s neck.  If paradise could be measured by content sighs and moments of total happiness, Thor would believe he were there now.  Pressed to Loki as he is, he cannot imagine being anywhere else, with anyone else.  For there is a simple perfection here that Thor will never want to find anywhere else, because anywhere without Loki is meaningless.

One hand on Loki’s hip, the other still supporting his head, Thor pushes into Loki’s wet cunt, finding it still open from the night before.  He moans softly, sheathing himself inside the sleeping Trickster; beneath him, Loki moans, eyes shut and body lax.  Biting his lip, Thor drags his hand down to Loki’s lower abdomen, pushing just a bit deeper, holding his brother close.  Around his cock, Loki is wet, warm and soft. 

Having had time for this, Thor is quite familiar with his brother’s quim; Loki’s folds are lush and heavy when aroused; thick and hairless, Thor loves to wrap his lips around and suck on them tenderly.  The length of his slit is impressive alone, long enough to compete with the length of Thor’s longest finger, and then being longer still.  The Thunderer especially loves this part of Loki because, more often than not, he will rest his cock just in the crease of Loki’s folds, still and comfortable.

Inside, Loki is warm; the wet inner walls that Thor loves to lick and rub whenever he spreads Loki open are slick with a sort of arousal akin to a morning erection—of which Loki are also sporting, his cock resting below his left hip.  Gently, Thor reaches around to rest his palm over Loki’s slight mound beneath his cock, fingers teasing the top of his slit until his finds it: a large, round and hot bud that, upon stroking it with the tip of his finger, Loki’s entire body jerks and a moan escapes the Trickster’s mouth.

Smirking, Thor wiggles his hips and thrusts slowly in and out of Loki, his cock hardening with each rock as his finger swirls along the skin around Loki’s clit.  His free hand slithers under Loki’s body and reaches up to stroke his cock slowly.  Beside him, Loki is quivering in his slip, body instinctively tightening and moving with Thor’s thrusts.  They’ve been together so long even in sleep Loki knows how to respond to Thor’s touch.

Kissing his brother’s shoulder, Thor sighs as he thrusts, muscles tightening and flexing as he does.  Loki has an arm under his pillow, fingers twitching against the edge before gently gripping it.  Loki’s mouth falls open, and Thor relishes in the quiet gasps and moans that befall those lips, and he knows his brother is waking now.  The mixed sensations of his cock, fingers, and palm wrapped around his own erection prove too much, and Loki jerks back against Thor, crying out faintly.

“Oaf,” Loki moans, not turning his head to look as Thor kisses the side of his neck, thrusting a little harder.  His hips move rhythmically, though, slow and sweeping, and Loki arches softly as another moan takes his voice.

“Aye, but you like it,” Thor murmurs, nipping his brother’s shoulder gently.  Loki inhales sharply and grits his teeth.

Before Thor can tease him further, Loki pries his hands away and slips off of Thor’s cock.  Whining, the Thunderer reaches for him again, only resulting in being rolled onto his back, staring up as Loki swings a leg over and straddles him at once.  A moan purrs in the back of Thor’s throat as Loki’s fingers—nails painted dark, an erotic contrast to his pale skin—curl around the base of his cock again, giving an affectionate squeeze before sinking down.  Thor watches as his cock disappears inside of Loki’s voluptuous cunt, and he arches deeply, moaning loudly.

“Yes, _brother_ ,” Loki’s voice is light enough to be of grace but sharp enough to cut Thor like a knife, and he melts a little as Loki’s inner thighs come to rest on his hips, his cock buried deep inside of the Trickster, “if you’re going to fuck me, you can fuck me proper.”

Thor snarls softly, arching again, his hands coming to cup Loki’s hips, holding firmly as he grinds into the Trickster above him.  Loki arches, tilting his head back as a moan erupts from his lips, and Thor grunts softly as he begins to thrust.  He is not gentle, he is not slow; he grips Loki tight and slams into that plump quim with the volition of a man enraged, and he loves every moment of it. 

He rolls his hips hard and precise, angling the weight of Loki and his own aching cock in such a way that he grinds along the upper walls of Loki’s cunt.  With this, he is focusing on the expanse of nerves and warm slickness, akin to his clit, which resides here.  Loki’s head falls back as one estranged cry of pleasure follows the next, and the sounds overwhelm Thor so wondrously it’s almost as if they’re not coming from Loki at all, but from all around the room.  Thor’s eyes roll back in ecstasy as he digs his heels into the bed, fucking Loki as deeply as he can.

He feels Loki’s hands gripping his thighs, nails plunging into flesh as the Trickster wails, soft pants and curses falling from pale thin lips that Thor cannot help but open his eyes to stare upon.  Just one of many of Loki’s more deadly assets, Thor finds his brother’s lips beyond erotically entrancing.  They are thin in their physique, but the demeanor to twist into snarls, smirks, trembling oh-shapes leaves Thor breathless, and sometimes he has to wonder whether he prefers fucking that beautiful mouth or the cunt he currently inhabits.

When Loki tightens his walls, squeezing Thor’s cock in all the ways that make him excited and anxious in regards of releasing early, he remembers that this cunt will always be beyond perfection.

“ _Yes!_ ”  Loki wails, releasing Thor’s thigh to reach down and press pale fingertips to the top of his slit, massaging and rubbing and Thor bats his hand away to press his own thumb against Loki’s clit.  The dark-haired Trickster jerks and cries out again, and Thor groans deeply from the back of his throat.

“Ooh,” Loki moans, turning his gaze down unto Thor, eyes hooded and dark.  The sight of it stirs a new kind of excitement within Thor, a burning in his belly that forces him to hold Loki tight and flip them once more, slamming Loki into the bed with his hips tucked warm and close between the Trickster’s thighs.  “By the _Nine_ , Thor!  Perhaps a touch of warning before you pound me through your bed—”

“ _Our_ bed,” Thor corrects, leaning down to kiss Loki fiercely as he thrusts again; he is deliberate this time, short but hard thrusts, barely doing more than grinding into Loki yet doing everything in his power to make his brother release first.  Loki snarls, wrapping long spindly legs around Thor’s waist, tightening them and bringing him closer.

“Ravage me, Odinson,” he growls, green eyes gone black and lips twisting wickedly between snarls and smiles, “fuck me through this bed like you’ve never done before.  I want to feel it, feel all of this aggression literally _spearing_ me through these linens!”

Loki’s nails latched into Thor’s broad back, and the Thunderer was sure at this rate he would bend Loki in half.  “ _Yes!!_   By the Gods, must I prompt you?  The _God_ of _Thunder_ needs encouragement?  Surely you can do better; strike me down and _melt me, you oaf!!_  Go _harder, deeper, f-faster_ …”  Loki’s voice broke when Thor slid near completely out of his cunt, only to slam back as hard as his possibly could.

“ _Faster…_ ” Loki whined, letting his legs fall away, spreading them almost impossibly wide, his hands raking down until his palms gripped Thor’s ass, shoving him deeper, “Gods, yes, Thor, yes!!  Again!  A-ahh.. _fuck!_ ”

Shouting in pleasure, Thor all but slams his entirety against Loki’s body, reveling in the sensation of Loki’s nails in his flesh, the Trickster’s cries of ecstasy in his ears.  And it is with a piercing scream of undeniable euphoria that Loki’s cunt tightens and he, at last, comes with a full body thrash.  Warmth soaks around Thor’s cock, gushing against his hips and thighs, and he snarls, filling Loki with his own release.

Crying out again, Loki tightens himself around Thor’s body, arms and legs wrapped protectively around the Thunder god, holding him close.  Thor is buried so deep inside of Loki he has to wonder whether Loki is clinging out of pleasure or out of a need to keep his cum deep inside, nurturing and safe.  Panting heavily, Thor collapses over Loki, trembling as his fingers and toes find themselves back from numbness.

Whimpering softly, Loki is a mess of twitching limbs and shaking thighs, and Thor kisses him slow and quickly.  This is not the first time Thor has reduced his brother to mewls and stuttered gasps, though each time has been progressively better than the first.  Brushing a small kiss along Loki’s jaw, Thor starts  to pull out, but Loki’s legs tighten and keep him within.

“No…” Loki murmurs, voice weak and heavy with a ragged tone.  He will be hoarse from screaming for a few hours yet, “not yet…please..”

Loki almost never says ‘please’, and it sends a shiver down Thor’s spine.

“Of course…”  Thor says.  Loki tangles his fingers into Thor’s hair, pressing their foreheads together as they each catch their breath.  The sting of welts and small scrapes are beginning to settle into Thor’s shoulders and cheeks, but he doesn’t mind it too much.  The memories serve as pleasant reminders, and the pleasure will last for a day or so more.

“Of all of the ways you could have woken me,” Loki begins, eyes drawn shut and lips barely moving, “I do believe this was the most fun.”  Thor smiles brightly.

“I thought you might enjoy it.”  Green eyes open, and they are surprisingly soft.

“You oaf… always seeking the happiness in others.”

“Aye.  Always seeking happiness for _you_ , dear brother.”  Loki rolls his eyes, but the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth is genuine.  “I love you.”

“I know,” Loki says, smirking faintly before kissing Thor sweetly.


End file.
